


A Matter of Trust

by didipickles



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Communication, Dom/sub Undertones, Light Angst, M/M, Safeword Use, Spanking, Spanksgiving, Spanksgiving2019, Talk things through!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:44:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/didipickles/pseuds/didipickles
Summary: David and Patrick have an argument while wedding planning. They get out of their heads for a bit.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Comments: 25
Kudos: 173





	A Matter of Trust

**Author's Note:**

> title from ["a matter of trust" by billy joel ](https://youtu.be/OKhE-2tOaE0)
> 
> a lot of the idea for this came from thoughtful discussions at the rosebudd about patrick and his communication issues. it also came from me wanting to having spankings be evenly distributed for spanksgiving. the working title for this fic was "2 spanks 2 giving."
> 
> thank you to this-is-not-nothing for your thoughts about david's color preferences, pointing out absolute nonsense in my draft, and providing the best validation in the world.

“Why are you pressing this so much?” Patrick burst out, the exasperation coloring and twisting his words.

“Because you are notoriously bad at talking things through when it has to do with what you want!” David felt his pulse rising, and he stood and started pacing between the kitchen and the bed. “Jesus, I mean for someone who constantly says we need to talk about things, you sure do keep a lot to yourself.”

The answering silence cut through David, far worse than any retort. He slowly stopped his pacing and crossed to where Patrick was still sitting at the table, staring at a bewildering number of centerpieces. Fucking _ centerpieces, _that’s what this was about. Wedding planning had been relatively smooth, an easy balance of deferring to each other’s expertise. But now, after what felt like a million decisions together, they were coming to a head over goddamn tealight candles and floral arrangements. 

“I didn’t mean that,” David whispered, sitting down as though the chair were made of explosives. He did mean it, and they both knew it. They’d talked about it and talked about it, again and again: after Rachel, and after Patrick’s parents, and after Patrick burst out one day about how David loaded the dishwasher. Patrick was unlearning a lifetime of keeping what he wanted hidden, and David was unlearning a lifetime of expecting his wants to go unmet. 

After the silence thickened enough to clog David's lungs, he slid his hand over to where Patrick's fist rested on the table. Several long seconds passed and then Patrick's shoulders sagged. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, this is…" David squeezed Patrick's hand until it unclenched and turned over, letting David stroke at his palm. "I'm more stressed out about this than I thought I would be now that we're near the end. You know how it was planning with Rachel."

David did. They'd talked about that too, very early in the engagement. It took almost a week, but David finally got Patrick to open up and talk more about his first engagement. Rather than flooding him with jealousy, hearing about it only made David ache for the Patrick who felt like he was betraying his best friend, lying to her in promising her things he couldn't give her. He'd let her plan everything, thinking maybe seeing it all come together would convince him he was doing the right thing. Maybe this was about more than just centerpieces after all.

"I'm not Rachel." 

Patrick looked up, his face showing surprise and a bit of hurt. "I know that, David. And I've been working with you on this. Every step. But I just—" His fist clenched again, pulling away from David's stroking fingers. 

"Hey, wait, hang on. Pause." David stood and moved behind Patrick, rubbing his shoulders. "I know this is a lot. But Patrick," David dropped a kiss to the top of his head. "You can't just clam up and then expect me to know what you're thinking. That's not fair to me."

Patrick's shoulders dropped again, giving in to the pressure of David's fingers. "I know. I guess it's just that I'm—it's just been so easy? Everything about planning has been easy, and I haven't been worried, and now I'm just—just psyching myself out, or something. Expecting something to go wrong, and that's stressing me out, and then I'm stressed out _ about _ being stressed out, and I feel like I'm messing it all up and picking fights because that's how it was before." David kept his hands moving as Patrick panted, apparently winded from his verbal stream of consciousness. For all the ease Patrick had in making grand declarations, these moments of stripping himself down were few and far between and always hard-won. 

The silence that followed was entirely different from the earlier one, softer. At one point Patrick reached a hand up and grabbed David's wrist, pulling him down so David was hunched over him, chin resting on Patrick's head. They remained that way while Patrick's breathing slowed. Finally, Patrick's hand moved toward the table and landed on a picture of a simple gold centerpiece filled with burgundy and cream flowers. "This is the one I like." The simple words sounded like they weighed three tons on Patrick's tongue, and David kissed the top of his head again.

"Thank you," he whispered into his hair. He hoped Patrick heard the response beneath it to Patrick's unspoken question. They didn't have to talk about it now, though they both knew they'd need to later. Truth be told, David had found himself similarly in his own head about how smoothly things were going with planning. Despite being shown time and time again that working with Patrick was easy, David still expected something to go wrong somewhere. Every single day was another decision, another phone call to a venue or caterer or DJ (David shuddered at that again—and Stevie thought he couldn't compromise), and though at each turn things continued to work well, David couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop. He was oversaturated with the entire thing. They both were.

"How about we make a deal," David said, standing up straight and pulling Patrick's chair back. He waited until Patrick had turned to look at him before continuing. "We're going to watch a movie, and neither one of us will say another word about wedding planning or centerpieces or moodboards."

Patrick was still for a moment, then quirked his lips the way David loved. "Are you sure you can go a whole movie without talking about moodboards?"

David rolled his eyes and jerked Patrick's chair, nearly knocking him over and making him laugh outright. "Okay, this is the thanks I get for giving us a night off from planning?"

Still laughing, Patrick got to his feet and turned David toward the TV. "As if you're not doing this just to make out with me," he quipped, then pushed David forward before landing a hard slap to his ass. The moment Patrick’s hand left, David wanted it back, again and again, forcing him to close out the other thoughts, to focus on just being here and letting Patrick take care of him, to give Patrick something tangible he could control.

Slowly, as though trying not to spook a skittish animal, David turned back around. The look on Patrick's face told him they were once again perfectly in sync. Patrick knew what he was thinking, wanted it too, wanted to give it to David, to take it for himself. David nodded slowly, and Patrick stepped closer, grabbing David's hips and walking him back behind the couch. "Is this okay?" Patrick asked, hot and close in David's ear as he turned him around and bent him forward, leaning over him so his lips stayed on David's skin.

"Please," David said, clutching the top of the couch and trying to push back against Patrick. He could sense the desire radiating from Patrick, matching his own. Patrick kept his lips at David’s ear as he reached around his front, working David’s complicated pants open and pushing them down. 

“Tell me what you want.” Patrick punctuated the command with a lick to the sensitive skin behind David’s ear. “Tell me you need it.”

David’s eyes closed and he held the couch tighter. He _ did _need this, and he knew Patrick needed it too. They both needed to get out of their heads and come together, to remember they were a team. Wedding planning had brought them closer, certainly, but had also sparked insecurities they hadn’t yet overcome. Something needed to ground them. “Need you to show me I’m yours, Patrick.” It came out as no more than a breath, but he heard it travel through Patrick’s body behind him, felt it in the way Patrick tensed and then exhaled. David took a breath and spoke again. “I know you need it, you need to remind me, I know you want to do it, c’mon.” They’d done this before, when things spiralled and nothing seemed to make sense except each other. Patrick would take care of him, he knew it.

“Bend over and stay right there,” Patrick whispered. “I’m gonna get some things. I think you need to be opened up before you get my hand again.”

David obeyed, bending down further so his forehead rested on the back of the couch. He focused on his breathing as he heard Patrick move around the apartment, letting himself slip into the growing pleasant fuzziness in his head. 

When Patrick returned, he smoothed his hand up under David’s sweater and then moved down to his ass, scratching slightly. “Yeah, I’m gonna open you up and then get you nice and pink before I fuck you, is that what you want?” 

David could hardly manage the whimper he let out, and Patrick’s hand came down hard on his thigh. “Words.”

“Yes! That’s what I want, yes, please Patrick, just—” The words died as Patrick spread him open and then ran a lubed finger around his entrance before breaching it with just the tip. David could already feel his legs starting to shake, and he pushed himself back a bit, hoping he could spur Patrick into speeding things up. To his surprise, it worked. Patrick made a noise resembling a snarl and pushed his finger in further, pairing it with a bite to the back of David’s neck. From there he moved quickly, stretching and taking David apart from within until finally the plug pushed inside and settled into place, drawing a gasp from David. 

“There, that’s it. All plugged up and open for me, that’s right. I know what you need, don’t I?” Patrick’s hands were in constant motion, pushing at the plug, scratching up under David’s sweater, pinching his thigh, ghosting down near his balls, and David responded with a high whine before biting the couch to keep from screaming at Patrick to get on with it.

As though tuned in to David’s thoughts, a hard smack landed in the center of David’s ass, followed by another in exactly the same spot. David’s thighs trembled with the impact, and he heard a satisfied growl behind him. The next two hits fell on the skin right at the top of his thighs, followed by one on each cheek. It almost felt like floating, every slap just enough to remind him of Patrick’s presence. David was hardly even aware of the throbbing of his own neglected cock or the steady dripping of precome, trailing in long glistening threads to the floor. 

When the stinging turned into uncomfortable heat, David turned his head and spoke in a tiny whisper. “Yellow, please.” He barely recognized his voice, ragged and high. Immediately Patrick stopped and stepped forward, draping himself over David, his cock dragging and bumping into the plug—when had he taken his pants off?—his voice a low constant hum of praise. “You’ve done such a good job for me, David, letting me do this, telling me you needed me to slow down, I’m so proud of you, you’ve taken me so well, I think you deserve to be rewarded, is that what you want? Do you want me to come inside you now, can I make you feel good?” 

_ “Patrick,” _David sighed, hoping it would be enough of an answer. He whimpered when Patrick gently pulled the plug from him, and tried his best to push his hips back. Patrick’s strong, steady hands were on him in an instant, holding him up and supporting him, the way he always did, the way he promised he would. David almost didn’t feel when Patrick’s cock slid inside, too wrapped up in the warmth and safety of the moment. 

“God, David,” Patrick hummed as he bottomed out, gently thrusting a few times to help David adjust. David still had his sweater on, his pants were still around his ankles, and he could feel the scratch of the bottom of Patrick’s shirt against the sensitive skin on his ass. Everything about the scene _ looked _urgent, but the way Patrick was pushing inside him so sweetly made the moment seem like it could drag on forever. “You’re so good, you’re so good for me, all the time, always,” Patrick was whispering behind him, his body bowing forward to wrap himself around David’s back, pressing against him through the layers of clothing. He drew out and then slid back in, slow and precise, his lips never leaving David’s ear. David’s arms gave out when Patrick’s hand wrapped around his cock, and he rested his cheek on the back of the couch, giving himself over entirely to Patrick’s hand, Patrick’s words, Patrick’s body. 

Almost before he realized it, David spilled over Patrick’s hand, his entire body shuddering with the waves of pleasure. Patrick moaned into his ear and followed after him, buried deep and secure, pulsing inside him for long seconds. The world slowly slipped back into full focus, details sharpening as David learned how to breathe again. The first detail to come back was the hot stinging where Patrick’s body was still pressed against his tender skin, and he wriggled slightly, making a small noise. Patrick kissed David’s cheek and pulled himself back and out. 

“Shh, stay there, can you stay there for one more minute, David? Just stay still for me, I’ll be right back, okay?” Patrick’s voice sounded hazy, coming through a dense fog, but David would trust that voice through anything. He stayed where he was, testing out his arms and his legs, pushing himself up slightly. In a moment Patrick was back, lips against his shoulders while he wiped David’s hole and cock and then led him to bed. “Can you lie down for me? That’s good, you’re doing so great.” 

Once David was on his stomach, he felt Patrick spread lotion over his ass, his fingers whispering over the skin. “Thank you,” David hummed, loving the feel of those strong hands so gentle and soft against him. 

Patrick climbed up next to David when he finished, looking utterly ridiculous with no pants or underwear but his shirt fully buttoned. David started giggling, and Patrick snuggled up next to him, laughing and pressing kisses wherever he could reach, his lips trailing his happiness all over David’s neck and cheek and shoulder and arm. “So that was...good,” Patrick finally said, laying on his side with his hands tucked up under his cheek. “I think we both needed that. But uh.”

David’s stomach dropped, and Patrick must have seen it on his face, because he rushed on.

“No, not but as in bad, just—you were right, and we need to talk about it.” Patrick looked almost chastised, his eyes wide and sad. “I’ve been doing a less than stellar job at communicating, and I know that.”  
  
Warmth flooded through David again as he watched his fiancé stumble. They _ did _need to talk about this. And they would. For now though, David reached out and brushed his index finger over Patrick’s lips. “Can you just...hold me for a little while first?”

Patrick paused, his face going fond and intimate and knowing. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> find me on tumblr @thedidipickles and twitter @didipickles2


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